


Have You Found The Flaming Sword?

by CadetDru



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett, Highlander: The Series
Genre: Flaming Sword, Gen, It Flamed Like Anything, Pre-Canon, Quickening, The Arrangement (Good Omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-02
Updated: 2019-07-02
Packaged: 2020-06-03 00:51:46
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19452997
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CadetDru/pseuds/CadetDru
Summary: Adam, oldest man, the Serpent of the Garden has but one question for you.





	1. Quickening Visits

Lightning crackled, sparks flew. The question loomed: "Have you found the flaming sword?"

Methos didn't like to fight. He didn't want to fight other Immortals. It all seemed so pointless. But, sometimes he had to, in order to see another day. 

Every so often, at the end of the Quickening, Methos would see an angel. It was a real angel, with beautiful white or black wings: there were two of them that showed up. They never came together. The one with white wings was hard to behold due to the sheer light. The one in black had pale skin, red hair, the gold eyes of a snake, and probably was no true angel. It made no difference to him. If a being appeared before him with wide wings, emanating light, that was enough for him. There was enough light during the Quickening already; they came just as it started to fade.

After the Quickening was the only time they ever came to him. Each time, they had one question: "Have you found the flaming sword?" 

Every time, he mutely shook his head. He had never looked for it, or even promised to look for it. They seemed to think that as the Oldest "Living" Man/Immortal, he would be the first to run across it. It made sense, between his inhuman longevity and the fact that people did keep coming at him with swords of various sorts. Unfortunately for them all, he had never, in all of his unending days, seen a sword that flamed. The snake seemed to take it harder than the other. Both were very disappointed, it showed in their inhuman eyes. It didn't get better or worse as the years went on, it just seemed to go on. 

Methos refused to ever look for it. He wouldn't play someone else's game; he was already avoiding the Game as much as was possible. 

"Have you found the flaming sword?"


	2. Office Hours

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Serpent asks the scholar who knows the most about the oldest man if he knows where the sword is.

In the early 1990's, Adam Pierson was sought out by Anthony J. Crowley. Mr. Crowley was looking for a sword of some sort, ancient and mysterious. It was somehow connected to Methos, so he had found his way to Mr. Pierson. Mr. Pierson was looking to continue his studies, hide Methos from the world, and not answer foolish questions. Mr. Pierson had an office, so Mr. Crowley paid him a visit. So far, so perfectly human.

One afternoon, a man in the dark glasses was standing in front of Mr. Pierson, in the probably younger man's office, his hand outstretched to shake. He was in a very nice dark suit, his hair was a beautifully unrealistic shade of red, and there was nothing angelic about him in the slightest.

Adam froze. He felt his control over himself, his entire Adam Pierson persona, slipping away. In front of the dark angel, he was just Methos. And Methos knew this man, this angel, this horror. He was not Immortal, but he was definitely not human in the slightest.

Methos did not take Crowley's hand. "Please leave," he said, instead of the more typical "Hello, how nice to meet you. How can I help?"

"Have you found the flaming sword?" Mr. Crowley asked, dropping his hand.

Methos shook his head, the same as he always did after a Quickening. 

"I didn't think it would be you," Crowley said, coming too close to Methos, moving behind him. "I was looking for the expert on my fellow, not the fellow himself. You haven't been looking for it, have you?"

Methos shook his head again.

"I need it," Crowley said, now standing behind Methos, talking directly into his left ear. "For a friend. I owe him one, I owe him a lot."

"Is that the other angel?" Methos managed to stammer.

"Has he been coming to see you too?" Crowley said, now in his right ear. "That devious little copycat."

"I don't know where it is," Methos said, having found his tongue. "I haven't looked. I'll start looking."

"I'm not threatening you," Crowley said. 

"That's the sort of thing people say as a threat," Methos pointed out.

"Let's get a drink, shall we?" Crowley said, moving so that he could keep direct eye contact.

"If you like," Methos said.

"I'm going to put you on my payroll, my boy. You'll be working directly for me now. I want that sword."

"We'll talk over that drink."


	3. Who Found It?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Who found the sword?

"Remember that lad?" Crowley asked Aziraphale on the Oxford bus back to London, after the world didn't end.

"You'll have to be a bit more specific than that," Aziraphale said, his lips twitching into a smile.

"The fake Horseman, Death. The oldest man, the immortal."

"Methos," Aziraphale supplied.

"Him. Imagine if after all our questioning, he found out that you ended up sitting on the sword."

"He had access to it at one point," Aziraphale said.

"War was wielding it today, not Death," Crowley said. He leaned in closer, to whisper: "Wrong Horseman."

"What is your point?" Aziraphale asked.

"I only bothered the boy because you were, and it turns out you were wrong."

"It was never your sword, what did you care?" Aziraphale asked.

"I coveted it, of course. Beautiful flaming sword, I was going to take it off you if you hadn't given it away."

"You wouldn't have had a chance, if I had still owned it," Aziraphale said, sitting up a little straighter.

"That's right," Crowley said, drawing it out. "And then, after all that, you had to hand it back over today."

"I didn't need it," Aziraphale said. "I won't."

"You threatened me with it," Crowley chided, playing up his hurt.

"I didn't mean it," Aziraphale said, suddenly anguished. 

"You never threatened me in the Garden," Crowley pointed out.

"A lot of things have changed since then," Aziraphale said, unnecessarily. 

"Who do you think did find it?" Crowley asked. "How did they get it?"

Aziraphale didn't answer.

The bus went on.


End file.
